


Somebody, Nobody

by Sithisis



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sithisis/pseuds/Sithisis
Summary: This is not his sky. This is not his soil. This is not his home. By Kairoz’s machinations, Garrosh Hellscream is stuck in an alternate universe where everything is the same as it never was.





	Somebody, Nobody

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short story thing inspired by the AUs that @swampgallows and @steblynka have come up with… I love all of these AUs… *cries softly*

Garrosh steps out of Kairoz’s portal right before the dragon disappears to another timeway. The dragon wants to find the ‘perfect’ one for his scheming, whatever that may be.

Nobody is happy about this. The people who went to that farce of a trial are probably trying to come to terms with meeting their alternate selves, while Garrosh is angry and confused and suddenly really homesick. It wasn’t even his _choice_ , this time travel thing. Kairoz portaled him away before he could even accept the Red Crane’s decision.

So he’s here… wherever this is, now. Garrosh stands still and closes his eyes. He feels the wind caress his skin, the scent of an ocean is not far away. When he opens his eyes, he quietly observes the sky above, the strong and healthy earth below, and the rolling hills in the distance.

This is not his sky.

This is not his soil.

This is not his home.

He can practically hear Kairoz’s mocking voice tell him that _of course_ this isn’t his home. Of course it isn’t Nagrand or Azeroth or Orgrimmar. It is an alternate universe, a different timeline, where things are the same as they never were. He wonders if, in this universe, he could meet his mother... perhaps even his father--

Kairoz interrupts his thoughts as he steps out of a new portal and hastily tells Garrosh to get himself acquainted with this timeline. The dragon, in the appearance of an elf, looks horrified by something as he tells Garrosh this. Kairoz keeps touching his own neck, as if wanting to shield it away from the orc.

Then, the dragon leaves. Just straight up _leaves_ and Garrosh knows he should be angry because he didn’t ask for this. He _didn’t_ and he doesn’t want to be controlled by a puppeteer hiding in the shadows, doesn’t want to be involved with slavers who offer corrupted power. What he does want, however, is for his people to be free of all masters.

Yet Garrosh is not angry… just pensive. It’s similar to how he felt when the Divine Bell struck Anduin. In that moment, he had a sudden clarity of things he’s done up to that point and how the priest boy actually reminded him of _himself…_ sickly and without strength… yet with a good heart and high expectations and the public’s desire for him to keep striving to be just like his father…

Garrosh wonders if Anduin exists in this universe, too. He wonders about Thrall and Saurfang and even Jaina, of all people, as he starts walking forward to begin his new journey.

 

* * *

 

Technology is amazing. The motorcycle he’s riding is so much sleeker and faster than the ones he’s seen on Azeroth. The ‘phone’ device he now has seems much more convenient and undetectable compared to those arcane-infused communication stones. And the number of apps -- there is an app for everything and anything. Garrosh likes the Snapchat one, in particular. He wonders what Thrall would think of it.

Thrall. Just as he could just imagine Kairoz’s voice, he can hear Thrall’s as well.

_You disappoint me, Garrosh._

Garrosh wonders if he’ll ever meet Thrall in this universe. Will he be just as disappointed in him as he is back in Azeroth? Garrosh speeds up on the highway as conflicted emotions bubble up. He wants the rush of the wind to clear away his thoughts. He wants to lose himself to the music that’s playing in his headphones. Metallica is very much to his aesthetic.

As Garrosh turns a corner, he has only seconds to realize that things are really, _really_ bad but he just cannot stop in _time_ \--

\--And collides with a truck that’s ignoring traffic rules and rushing the highway.

The impact is immediate. He goes flying off on his motorcycle, his leg hitting the burning exhaust pipe and then the skidding and vehicle honking and sirens everywhere and -- and there are just too many things happening all at once and he is dizzy and everything hurts so _bad_ and just before he loses consciousness, he sees a woman with blonde hair in a uniform with a man who has grey hair and they look so familiar and he _should_ know their names but he’s hurting a lot _a lot_ and--

 

* * *

 

Garrosh wakes up to a white ceiling and things attached to his limbs. He looks around and gathers that he must be in this universe's equivalent to a healer’s room.  

There’s a window beside his bed, and it’s nighttime. The moon is full and almost too bright, but he looks at it anyway. This isn’t his moon. These aren’t his stars. Yet, until he figures out a way to get back home, he knows he should accept them. He hopes to somehow use whatever this universe has to offer to do so.

So invested in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the door to his room open and close. He only realizes it when the person is beside his bed and greets him.

Garrosh’s eyes go wide. It’s Thrall. Then, he catches himself. No. Not _his_ Thrall, but the one from this universe.

“You were in critical care for almost twelve hours,” Thrall says softly. “You almost died… Jaina was so worried... it was her first day on paramedic duty.”

In the moonlight, Thrall’s concerned expression combined with his quiet voice and how he places a hand ever so gently above Garrosh’s own to stabilize him, gives Garrosh an odd sense of déja vu. He doesn’t realize that he’s holding his breath until Thrall tells him to breathe.

The next few moments play out like a scene at a movie theatre, as if Garrosh himself isn’t exactly in the scene, yet there anyways at the same time. There’s a quiet knock at the door before none other than Jaina Proudmoore comes rushing in to his bedside. Thrall moves so that there’s room for all three of them.

Huddled together, under the moonlight, with now relieved expressions and tired smiles and soft, comforting touches and voices, Garrosh feels that they’re okay. Feels that he’s okay.

He cracks a small smile at this --whatever _this_ is-- and closes his eyes.

The three of them stay close like this for minutes, hours… time seems meaningless, and there is only peace.

Yet the moment before Garrosh falls asleep, he realizes that perhaps Thrall and Jaina are confusing him with the actual Garrosh of this universe… and he wonders why his heart aches.


End file.
